


Problematic Oneshots >:D

by middaysky0613, Tables



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal tearing, Angst, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Bondage, Bottom Alexis | Quackity, Bottom Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Bottom Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Bottom TommyInnit, Bottom Wilbur Soot, Character Death, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Crushing, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Daddy Kink, Dadza, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Thoughts, Drunkenness, F/F, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Food Kink, Food Sex, Frottage, Gangbang, Grinding, IKEA, IKEA Furniture, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inanimate Object Porn, Incest, Jealousy, Kissing, LITERALLY, Licking, M/M, Making Out, Masochism, Mentions of Anal Splinters, Multi, Necrophilia, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Graphic Violence, Oil, Other, Painful Sex, Painplay, Parent/Child Incest, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Sibling Incest, Slut Shaming, Smut, Sub Wilbur Soot, Swordplay, Table Sex, Tears, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Top Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Top Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Top Wilbur Soot, Underage Sex, Wet & Messy, Wet Clothing, Workplace Sex, he fucks a table, philza is a good dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middaysky0613/pseuds/middaysky0613, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tables/pseuds/Tables
Summary: Yeah, yeah. You bitches know the drill. Post prompts in the first chapter. I'll write anything, absolutely anything. Bloody rape? You betcha. Incest-gangbang? Sure! Pissing non-con? Oh hell yes.You were looking for this ;)Tags will be updated.---We just added my good friend Tables to the writers!(I'm Tables, nice to meet you! I have my own projects if you want to check them out!)
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Clay | Dream, Alexis | Quackity/Clay | Dream/Technoblade, Alexis | Quackity/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot/Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot/Table, Wilbur Soot/Technoblade, Wilbur Soot/Technoblade/TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Comments: 257
Kudos: 998





	1. Rules/TOC

**Author's Note:**

> tbh hate fuels me but id rather you didnt bother as ill just *poof* the comment out of existence

Yo. You know why you're here. You can scroll down a bit if ya don't want to read the disclaimers. This work is only showed to registered users, I used no character tags, and this fic will be in no way shape or form shown or sent to the people in it. It may contain some triggering topics, reader discretion is advised.

\----

Chapter 1 (midday): Wilbur/Tommy/Techno- rape, incest

Chapter 2 (midday) : Techno/Phil- incest, pining

Chapter 3 (midday) : Aftermath of chapter 1- tommy & phil, rape recovery

Chapter 4 (midday) : Wilbur/Table- wilbur gets his cock crushed by a table. cum licking, table licking. workplace sex. 

Chapter 5 (midday) : Wilbur/Table- Wilbur gets fucked by a table leg. Bitting, wet and messy, cum eating.

Chapter 6 (midday) : Quackity/Techno/Dream- Dream and Techno rape Quackity. Bloody and violent. Warnings for death. 

I'll write literally anything. Corpsehusband, Hermitcraft, Dream SMP, Nuclear SMP, Roadhog's SMP, One Life, you name it. I'll do any kinks or ships, even gangbangs.

Please post in the following format below. I'll still take it if ya don't, but it makes things easier.

Ship(s):  
Genre (horror, pure smut, torture, gore, rape):  
General gist:  
Any other requests with the fic:

You can always post more than one request! I might message you for clarification sometimes, but you'll definitely get a message when your prompt is used.

psst: I value all requests but I'm a bit of a slut for any sleepy bois inc, bottom will, bottom dream, or top techno fics. plus, corpse.


	2. He Ain't Gonna Tell Anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur took in Tommy's silent, sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, sleeping soundly. But Wilbur knew he wasn't as innocent as he looked. Any tinge of regret washed away as soon as he remembered the sight of Tommy moaning above that boy. He nodded to Techno. It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Nevertheauthor.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Non-con, Non-con somnophilia, non-con drugging, slight blood, toxic relationships, drunken-ness

Tommy was... a wild child, to say the least. His father Phil had absolutely no control over him, despite his best efforts. Tommy believes that he was part of the reason his mother left, no matter how much Phil denies it. 

That said, it wasn't really a surprise when Phil started drinking. Tommy would come home from school to see his father nursing a beer- at half past three, mind you- lazily watching whatever show was on. It didn't bother Tommy, though, it just gave him more opportunities to sneak out with Tubbo.

His teacher began to get concerned when his father stopped signing the weekly check-ins for homeroom. She called his father (who answered the phone completely blasted, much to Tommy's embarrassment) and decided to call Child Protective Services to set things straight. Phil, having to choose between drinking and Tommy, chose drinking. What a mistake that was.

He forged his Alcoholics Anonymous submissions, and kept drinking. He did, however, hire two nannies to watch over the middle-schooler while he was gone. Wilbur and Technoblade (Or Wilby and Techno, as Tommy called them) were two college kids nanny-ing for money. Phil really couldn't care less what happened while he was away, as long as they didn't charge too much and he could keep drinking. 

The two men were quite annoyed by Tommy's utter disregard for his elders, but at first it didn't bother them. They could watch TV and make out on the couch, letting Tommy do whatever-the-fuck he does in his room all night until Phil got home at three A.M.

As Tommy slowly morphed from a wee middle-schooler to a highschooler, his body started filling out. It was normal, Wilbur had said, when he had asked the pair sloppily making out on the couch why he was getting taller. He was still not quite the model child, and his times sneaking out with Tubbo had become more frequent and more... risque. He thought Wilbur and Techno really didn't care, as they hadn't over the last two and a half years they had been watching him.

But Tommy, having no real mother or father figure, was still naive. He didn't notice the dark looks the pair gave him whenever he would walk up the stairs in short-shorts, or when he wore nothing but small swim trunks to swim in the backyard. He missed the slow, steady way Wilbur would jack Techno off, whispering his own fantasies of the younger boy's plush ass and perky nipples.

He really didn't notice, not until late sophomore year, when he was caught sneaking out with Tubbo. He really thought that Wilbur and Techno wouldn't care, not in the slightest. 

\-----------  


Tubbo rapped his knucked on Tommy's window, as he usually did. Tommy's face split into a wide grin, and he jumped up to greet his best friend-with-benefits. 

"Tubbo!" He whisper-yelled at his friend once he opened the window. 

"Tommy!" Tubbo replied with a cheeky grin. They embraced as they usually did every other night, hugging eachother tightly. Tubbo didn't exactly have the best home life, either. 

"So, Tubbs, whatcha wanna do?" Tommy asked with a light smirk. Tubbo poked him in the chest.

"You know what I wanna do! Get that sausage in my bun!"

Tommy spluttered. "Wait, Tubbo-"

"Put that rod in my slot-"

"Tubbo, no-"

"Put the key in my lock-"

"Okay, that one's weird-" Tommy slapped his hand over Tubbo's face, shushing him. "We can't really sneak out tonight, and maybe not anymore." He looked down wistfully. "I think the neighbor caught us sneaking through his yard and reported us to my dad."

Tubbo made a face. "Why would your dad care?"

"It's not him, it's Wilbur and Techo. Phil doesn't really care what happens to me, but they need this job to look good on their resume."

Tubbo nodded sagely and pulled Tommy down onto the bed. "Well, a little kissing wouldn't hurt, would it? We can always just say I came over to hang out."

Tommy gripped the back of Tubbo's neck and just whispered, "Sure," before capturing Tubbo's lips with his own. He felt the familiar spark he always did when kissing or loving on Tubbo, deep in his chest. They battled for dominance in the kiss, but Tommy always won, flipping Tubbo onto his back.

"Fuck, Tubbs. You always get me going," Tommy panted, pressing light kisses down his neck.

Tubbo giggled. "I know." He gasped when Tommy started grinding down slowly, canting his hips up to meet Tommy's. In their lustful haze, they didn't notice the two sets of angry eyes from the doorway.

\-----------  
"Bye, Tubbs!" Tommy whispered to Tubbo as said boy climbed back down the side of the house. He pressed one last kiss to his lips before shutting the window, smiling fondly at the climbing boy.

He heard his door creak open and panicked- surely, Phil wouldn't be home so soon? But no. When he was met with a "What a nice show, baby." He knew exactly who it was.

"W-Will? Techno?" He flushed, wondering exactly how much of that make-out/grinding session they had seen.. "Uh, what are you guy's doing here?"

Wilbur shrugged, smiling. "We just brought you some snacks for homework, you didn't get to eat lunch at school, right?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, Phil forgot to leave some money out this morning," he took the crackers and water from him. "Thanks for this, guys."

He didn't notice the smug looks Wilbur and Techno shared as they closed his door behind them.

\------

Tommy was asleep, Wilbur was sure of it. The boy's soft sleeping noises came from the bed, where a cracker lay still in his hand. He shot Techno a smirk, signaling that the boy was asleep. Now, they could take their time.

Wilbur took in Tommy's silent, sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, sleeping soundly. But Wilbur knew he wasn't as innocent as he looked. Any tinge of regret washed away as soon as he remembered the sight of Tommy moaning above that boy. He nodded to Techno. It was time.

Techno was already undressing, dropping his clothes to the floor, and Wilbur quietly took on the task of Tommy's clothes. A button caught, and Tommy wiggled a bit in his sleep, but Wilbur wasn't worried. They gave him some strong shit.

Techno pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Wilbur's throat, hugging him from behind and thumbing his nipples. "Baby, he's so perfect for us." 

Wilbur gripped Techno's wrists. "Yeah, he is. You wanna fuck him first?"

Techno walked around Wilbur, pushing Tommy's thighs up and looking at his untouched hole. "Yeah, and you can take his mouth."

"Uh, d'you have any lube?" Techno asked. Wilbur swatted him. 

"Did you seriously not bring lube?" 

Techno smiled sheepishly. "Well, no. It's not like we had this planned this morning."

Wilbur glanced around and tossed Techno a bottle of Tommy's moisturizer. "There, use that. It'll work."

Techno rolled his eyes and got to work, immediately starting with two fingers. He didn't really care about tearing, the slut deserved it if it did happen, but going in dry would hurt him as well.

Wilbur thumbed Tommy's plush lips, opening them with his forefinger. The hot heat looked so damn inviting, and his cock twitched at the sight. "Fuck, Techno, how am I supposed to last? I'm about to finish just looking at the boy."

Techno slid in without more prep. "God, he's tight- I get what you mean. Hurry up and get inside him."

Wilbur nodded, opening Tommy's mouth wider and slipping his cock in, not minding the slight brushes of teeth. "Fuck, shit- I could do this all day."

Techno started thrusting shallowly, moving Tommy's mouth up Wilbur's cock. Wilbur let out a long, drawn out moan. "What, not used to having your dick in something?" Techno asked with a smirk.

Wilbur scowled, thrusting into Tommy's mouth. "Hey, I top you sometimes!"

"Sure."

Techno sped up, pistoning into Tommy. Wilbur pushed any worried of the boy waking up into the back of his mind, thrusting himself. He pulled out for a second when he heard Tommy let out a light splutter. Techno met his eyes with a worried glance. "Shit- Will, did you wake him up?"

Wilbur whisper yelled back "No! Not on purpose!"

Tommy blinked some of the drowsiness away. "W-Wilbur? Techno? What's going on?" A sudden pained look fell across his face, and it shifted quickly to terror. "Wait, guys, what are you doing?"

Technoblade gripped Tommy's wrists to his chest. "Nothing, Tommy. Now shut up." He thrusted back in.

Tommy quickly realized what was happening and started to struggle. Techno's grip tightened.

Techno let out a heavy breath. "Wilbur, grab that belt off the floor." Tommy's eyes widened. Were they going to beat him up? Tell his dad?

His wrists were secured behind his head, and the drugs cleared up a little more. "N-no, stop! Let me go! I won't tell Phil if you let me go!"

Techno gave Tommy's nipples a sharp twist, eliciting a cry of pain from Tommy. "You're not going to tell him anyways, you hear? You really wanna burden that drunkard with stories that he likely won't even believe?" Tommy knew he was right, even as Wilbur guided his cock back to Tommy's mouth.

A snort from Wilbur snapped his eyes up from the bed in front of him. "You call this a cock? Looks more like a clit to me," he said, lifting the small, limp thing in his hands. "How on earth do you fuck that boy, anyways?"

Tommy started crying, full on now. How the hell did they know about Tubbo? Were they going to hurt him, too? This was the last thing he wanted, and his pleas of "Stop, stop, please-" were muffled by a cock being shoved into his mouth.

"Shut up, princess. I'm gonna make you and us feel real good, then you're gonna keep your mouth shut." Techno and Wilbur's lips met over Tommy, sloppily making out as they thrusted into the sobbing boy. Tommy was confused with the gentle way he caressed Wilbur, lightly kissing him as he did. It reminded him of the way he and Tubbo fuck, except they would never tie up and rape someone who obviously didn't want it.

Calloused hands gripped his thighs tighter when Tommy tried to close his legs around Techno. The pain was terrible- should it hurt this much? Tubbo said it felt good, really good. Why did it hurt?

Techno and Wilbur made out softly above him, fucking him roughly as they quickly chased their releases. Tommy felt ashamed, so ashamed. The sight of two attractive men kissing above him made his small cock twitch- and Wilbur noticed, pulling away from Techno's lips with a click.

"Well, what do we have here? Starting to like it, huh?" He softly started stroking Tommy's cock, causing the younger boy's body to contort in painful pleasure.

"Hah, the brat's getting off on being raped!" Techno found his prostate with a particularly hard thrust, and Tommy moaned loudly. The pains lowly started floating away, leaving only pleasure in it's wake. The soft hand on his cock and constant pressure on his prostate made him write uncontrollably, now wanting his own release.

Wilbur pulled himself out of Tommy's mouth, slipping Tommy's into his. A huge wave of pleasure came over the younger, and he came the hardest he had in his life. He realized, ashamed, harder than he ever had with Tubbo.

Tubbo! What would Tubbo think? Would he hate him? Would Tommy even tell him? Techno's thrusts sent him spiraling into overstimulation, but Techno's thrusts quickly became more sloppy and erratic. "Fuck, Will. Should I cum in him?"

Wilbur hummed in affirmation from where he was stroking his cock above Tommy's waiting body. "Yeah, yeah. Do it."

Tommy felt Techno's warm release filling him, drawing out another moan. He felt shame at his arousal, and his unwillingness to fight back. 'You can't,' a small part of his brain reasoned. 'You're drugged.' Tommy elected to trust that voice.

Wilbur came soon after Techno, hitting Tommy's chest and parts of his chin. "Shit," he said. "That was a good fuck."

Techno was already re-dressing. "Yeah, well. He ain't gonna tell anyone-" His eyes met Tommy's frightened ones. "Are you, princess?" Tommy rapidly shook his head. Techno grinned. "See? We can do this as much as we want, and we technically get paid to do it."

Wilbur tucked himself away. "You're right." They left abruptly, only just remembering to untie Tommy's wrists. Tommy stared down at himself, with no tears left in his eyes. All he could think about was Tubbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternative section: After Wilbur and Techno see Tubbo leave, this happens.
> 
> Techno grabbed Tommy's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Y'know, angel, if you ever need any sex advice we can help you." Wilbur nodded behind him.
> 
> Tommy pulled Techno's hands off of him. "Thanks, but I've got it under control. I'm not exactly... a virgin."
> 
> Wilbur's eyes narrowed behind Techno. "Was it that boy? Have you fucked that- kid?" Now, what was Tommy supposed to say? He didn't really know these two well, and he didn't trust them to not tell his dad. But then again, they looked pretty angry and lying likely wouldn't help.
> 
> "U-uh, yeah."
> 
> Wilbur snatched his wrists together pulling them to his own chest. "Why? Why would you spread your legs for that- that child?"
> 
> Tommy tried to pull away, this time failing. "Okay, number one, he spread them for me; and number two, he isn't a child."
> 
> Techno chucked. "What, you're telling me you aren't a pass-around party bottom? I would've assumed with all the sneaking out we let you do you'd be figuring yourself out." He pushed Tommy down to the bed, like Tubbo had an hour before, this time much less gentle. "But now, I come to find out you're just whoring yourself out to a kid."
> 
> Tommy felt tears creep into his eyes. He had never, ever had anyone talk to him like this. "Stop! You're all wrong! Tubbo is great!"
> 
> WIlbur snarled. "What, because he's your only friend?" That was a low-blow. They likely knew how much Tommy was bullied after kids found out his dad was a deadbeat drunk, and they twisted it.
> 
> Tommy let the tears fall. "No- because I love him!"
> 
> Wilbur shook his head. "Aw, babe, you don't know what love is. Let us show you."  
> 


	3. Daddy, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil moved faster, his hand working down to Techno's pert nipples and sucking more marks into the hollow of his throat. His own dark breaths synchronized with Techno's pained gasps, and he was chasing what he knew was his release- so soon, but what was he supposed to do? The SMP's supposed "bad boy" was lain out underneath him, begging for his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Withered_Soul
> 
> Trigger warnings: Father/Son incest, Daddy kink, excessive use of "Baby"

Phil glanced around the table. Wilbur and Tommy sat in their respective chairs, staring at their dinner longingly. Why couldn't they eat? You see, friends, in the Minecraft household, nobody ate until everybody was at the table, and Technoblade was half an hour late.

The door creaked open, and in walked a flushed Technoblade, wiping his forehead with the end of his cape. Phil stood up. "Technoblade. Where have you been? It's been almost an hour."

Techno smirked. "Ha, well. Just with Dream."

Wilbur frowned, but didn't say anything. Tommy continued staring at the steak and potatoes in front of him. "Dream, eh? What's so important with Dream that you needed to be late to a family dinner?"

Techno sat in his chair, placing his crown down on the table. "Just some planning. We had a... disagreement that I had to sort out."

Tommy gasped. "Oooh, did you beat up Dream?"

"I don't think that's what he means, Tommy." Wilbur said with a look of disgust.

Phil coughed. "Well, now we're all here. We don't need to talk about Techno's... escapades."

\-----

Phil looked at himself in the mirror. He was attractive, sure, but his large coat and bucket hat didn't exactly do much to help him. Nor did his large black wings, which he usually furled around himself like a shawl. He thought about Wilbur and Technoblade, his two sons. Everyone in the SMP noticed their attractive looks. Techno's effortless swagger and light muscle. Wilbur's supple thighs and lean body. 

Now, Phil knew Wilbur had his Schlatt (no matter how much Tommy looked on in disdain), and Phil had absolutely no attraction towards him anyways. Techno, on the other hand... Phil wanted him. Techno had never had a romantic relationship with anyone on the server- sexual or otherwise- and Phil had a few theories. Whatever the reason, Phil knew there was something Techno was hiding. Something big.

Uncurling his wings and taking off his hat, Phil dug through his closet to look for some of his old clothes. He had an idea.

\----- 

Techno was late to dinner, again. They had all expected it, but nobody (except Phil) had expected Phil. Well, not how he looked. 

In place of his large coat and shawl, he wore a loose, flowy green blouse and tight black slacks, cinched at the waist with a thick leather belt. He had cleaned up his facial hair a bit- not shaving completely, he'd never do that- but now, he looked more neat. He opted to not wear his signature hat, instead combing his hair back. He looked, well, good. 

Tommy just gave him a thumbs up and said, "Woah, going on a hot date or something?"

Phil shook his head. "Just thought I'd wear something nice."

Tommy whistled. "Damn, DILFza." Wilbur smacked the back of his head.

Wilbur looked at him appreciatively. "I like the outfit," he said. "Could I borrow it?"

Phil snorted. "If you're gonna try and fuck Schlatt in it, I'd rather you didn't." He ignored Wilbur's spluttering. "I quite like this shirt."

Techno slammed the door open, sweaty and flushed as usual. His fly was down, his pants looked like they were just put on hastily. His crown was tilted, hanging off one of his ears sloppily. 

"Hey, Techno." Phil said. The once-over Techno gave him told him what he needed to know. He was hot.

"U-uh, what're you wearing?" Techno stood still for a few seconds, staring. After Phil did, he sat down at the table, removing his crown, but he didn't take his eyes off of Phil's slim waist.

Phil feigned innocence. "What do you mean? Can't your dad dress up sometimes?"

Phil had expected to see dominance and lust in Techno's eyes, but instead he found something he hadn't expected. There seemed to be a meek form of desire there, instead.

"Get a room!" 

"Tommy!" Wilbur whacked him upside the head playfully.

\-----

Phil kept dressing how he had that day, and Techno wasn't late to dinner anymore. Phil was pleasantly surprised by this, he really hadn't expected it. Now, Phil was wearing a light green cardigan over a sheer white shirt, and the same black slacks as before. He had to admit, they hugged him nicely.

He felt a hot breath in his ear. "Hey, Phil."

He continued washing dishes, unphased. "Hey, Techno. Need something?"

"Uh, no," Techno just stared at the exposed collarbones above Phil's neckline. "Just, just appreciating the view." Phil could hear the wobble in his usually "holier than thou" speech. He internally chuckled, was he that hot? Ha.

"Mmm, well, you can enjoy it while you dry these dishes."

"Aw man!"

\-------

Phil had expected Techno to snap and and make a move, but it had been a straight month of Phil resting his hand on Techno's thigh or giving him flirty compliments and nothing had happened. Well, not nothing. Techno seemed almost... shy? Instead of flirting back, his already slightly pink skin took on a reddish blush and he hid his face in his hands. Once, he had excused himself to the bathroom, and Phil could swear he heard a small whimper of "Please, please..." coming from under the door.

It made some cogs turn in Phil's head. Sure, Phil had wanted Techno to fuck him silly, but it seems the plans had changed. Phil made sure to stock some lube and condoms in his bedside drawer, just in case.

\------

One day, Phil decided to make a move. He had spent too many nights jerking into his hand, squeezing his cock and wishing it was Technoblade that he was fucking, not his hand. He imagined pushing Techno against a wall, marking his neck. It made his cock jump when he imagined Wilbur hearing them.

Techno and Phil were alone, sitting on the couch together watching Netflix. Tommy was fishing with Tubbo, and Wilbur was off with Schlatt. Probably fucking.

Phil, as usual, slid his hand up Techno's thigh. It rested there, untouched, for a few seconds. Sensing no resistance, Phil slowly moved it up, squeezing the muscle under his hand. "Please, Phil." Techno finally gave in, breathy. "Please."

Phil smirked. "You gotta tell me what you want, baby."

Techno jerked up into Phil's hand. "Touch me, fuck me, please."

Phil moved his hand away, laughing at Techno's whine. "Aw, the big tough guy wants his Daddy to fuck him straight?" Techno hung his head, and Phil grabbed his chin. "Honey, there's nothing wrong with wanting what you do. Wanting to be fucked or submissive isn't a sign of weakness, I promise."

Techno's eyes softened. "Please, please kiss me."

Phil connected his lips to Techno's, exploring his mouth with his toungue. Techno seemed to come undone from the kiss alone, writhing in place. He moved his hand down to touch the raging bulge in his pants, but Phil slapped it away. "None of that, hun," he said, pulling Techno into his lap. "If you want pleasure, I'm gonna give it to you. Only me."

He kissed down the column of Techno's slim throat, sucking and biting as he unbuttoned the man's shirt. He pulled his own off afterwards without a second thought. "Are you okay with me fucking you?"

Techno lay back on the couch, pulling Phil down. "Phil, if you don't fuck me right now, I'm gonna- uh..."

Phil started undoing his pants. "Hm, baby, I don't think you should call me Phil anymore. Maybe something that's more fitting..." He pulled off his own slacks next. "How about Daddy?"

"Daddy!" Techno called out as Phil pressed his palm against Techno's wet cock. Phil felt his own dick twitch at the sound.

"Fuck, baby. You don't know what you do to me." He grabbed some lotion off the counter and spread Techno's thighs. "Have you ever been touched here before?"

Techno shook his head. "Usually I'm fucking Dream, but once we tried it and it ruined the mood." Phil tightened his grip on Techno's thighs at the mention of Dream.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't remember Dream's name, or your own." Techno moaned as Phil pushed the first finger in, gently moving around and prodding.

"Daddy, please!"

Phil added more lotion and a second finger, scissoring those around. "Patience, baby. I need to prep you or you'll tear, especially since it's your first time."

"I-I like some pain." Techno huffed, arching his back.

"Yeah, well, I don't want you to be so tight you snap my cock, so I'm gonna prep you some more." Techno snorted at the exaggeration.

He wiggled his hips. "Please, Daddy! Please, please-" Phil silences his pleas with a kiss. He couldn't give in and hurt his precious baby, no matter how much Techno begged.

He added a third finger, feeling around for something- ha! He knew he found Techno's prostate when said man arched off the couch, coming white ropes all over his stomach. Phil was schocked. "Baby, did you cum just from my fingers?" Techno nodded, embarrased.

Phil pulled his fingers out. "I'll give you that orgasm, but from now on, you ask." Techno nodded again, and Phil gripped his jaw. "Answer me, baby."

"Okay, Daddy."

Phil, satisfied, slowly sunk into Techno's tight heat. "Fuck," He whispered out, drunk on Techno's low whimpers. Who knew his son was such a little whore? His whore, mind you.

"Please, please move." Phil obliged, Pulling his hips back to the tip and slamming his cock back in. Techno moaned so loudly, Phil nearly thought he was in pain. 

Phil moved faster, his hand working down to Techno's pert nipples and sucking more marks into the hollow of his throat. His own dark breaths synchronized with Techno's pained gasps, and he was chasing what he knew was his release- so soon, but what was he supposed to do? The SMP's supposed "bad boy" was lain out underneath him, begging for his cock.

"Please, please more-" Phil gripped Techno's cock in his hand, squeezing the tip and thumbing the slit. Techno's eyes rolled back and he made a deep, throaty noise at the action. "Daddy, please- please can I cum?"

Phil moved his wrist faster on the man's cock. "No, sweetie. Not until I have." Techno wailed at the challenge. 

Phil sped up, his hips still fluidly canting in and out of Techno's sloppy hole. He was so close, he knew. "Baby, can I cum inside?"

"Yes, yes!" Techno yelled. "Daddy please!"

With a final powerful thrust, Phil emptied into his son and quickly jerked off his son. With a whispered command of, "Cum." Techno finished again all over his chest, adding to the mess.

"Baby, you look so beautiful." Phil ran his fingers through the cum on their chests, scooping some up with his fingers. "Clean them, baby."

Phil felt himself nearly get hard again at the sight of Techno licking up his own cum, but he knew Techno couldn't handle that. He needed a warm bath, and maybe some ice packs. He glanced at the purpling hickeys lining his son's throat.

"What would you say about a warm bath, sweetheart?"


	4. He's Gonna Tell Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil comes home and realizes what a mess he's created. Wilbur and Technoblade get what they deserve, and Tommy gets a bit of closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Rattttttttt.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Aftermath of rape, non-con somnophilia, bruises and bite marks, descriptions of violence, mentions of therapy

Phil stumbled into his house, late as usual. Wilbur and Technoblade sat on the couch, their clothes and hair a rumpled mess. 'Kids these days,' he thought. 'They probably fucked while I was gone.' The thought didn't worry him much.

He walked drunkenly towards the kitchen, chugging the glass of water he left for himself that morning. It didn't completely sober him, of course, but it cleared his mind just enough to realize that something felt- off. Wilbur and Techno glanced at him, then at eachother, the worry barely hidden in their eyes. Phil suddenly felt suspicious- but he squashed down those thoughts. He'd had almost three years to find any warning signs in the two men. Contrary to how it seemed, he cared about Tommy.

He stomped up the stairs, stopping in front of Tommy's door to make his daily check-in. As he creaked open the door, nothing could've prepared him for what he'd see.

Tommy lay on the bed, on his back, with fresh tears streaming down his face. He was naked, only covered in the groin area from a blanket hastily thrown on. His legs were splayed out on the bed, and clothes littered the floor. "Oh, Toms." 

Phil walked closer, frowning when Tommy flinched at his shadow. "Phil?" He whispered. Phil cringed at how weak and broken the boy sounded. 

"I'm here, Toms." Phil sat on the bed, gently rubbing one of Tommy's raw wrists. "What happened, hun?"

Tommy sniffled, his dull eyes meeting Phil's blue ones. "T-they said I shouldn't bother you, that I'd get in trouble-"

Phil stopped him with a gentle, comforting smile. "Who? Who was it? You know you can tell me anything."

Tommy looked down at his chest, and Phil could see the lines of cum staining the pure skin there. "I-It was Wilbur and, uh, Techno." Phil saw red.

"Hold on a second, baby." Phil put Tommy's blanket the rest of the way over his body. "I'm gonna go get some things to clean up."

He stormed down the stairs, his eyes locking on Wilbur and Techno, who were hastily packing up their books and homework. "H-hey, Phil, we're gonna leave a bit early." Wilbur said, his face easily readable as one of pure terror. 

Phil gave them a sick smile, ushering to the couch. "Nope, first we're gonna have a real quick talk about something."

"But sir, we've got to get going-"

Phil's smile dropped. "I said sit." Wilbur and Techno dropped down onto the couch. Phil stood in front of them, looking down at them with disgust. "You're gonna tell me exactly what you did to my boy. In detail."

Techno snorted, dropping his worried facade. "Why do you care? It's not like you see him for more than two minutes a day." That was a low blow, and Phil knew it.

"Because he's my son, you sick fucks! I'll have you know he's fifteen! You'll be locked up for years," he said, jabbing Techno in the chest. "Unless, you tell me everything that happened."

Techno and Wilbur gave eachother a look of shock that quickly morphed into a grin. They thought they were going to get off scott-free.

"He was a good fuck, I'll have you know," Wilbur said. "We drugged him, and I got his mouth. Techno took his ass- I think there was some tearing."

Techno shrugged. "He was asleep- for most of it, at least- I didn't think it mattered."

Phil's eyes narrowed. "What happened when he woke up?"

Wilbur fiddled with a string on his orange sweater. "Well, he said stop, of course. So we tied his wrists with a belt and kept going."

Techno smirked. "Hey, the kid liked it. He came twice!"

Phil slammed his fist into the smug bastard's face, causing Techno to grip his bruising jaw and look up in shock. "What-"

"You two sickos really thought you were going to get off the hook, just like that?" Phil cracked his knuckles. "I just needed to know what to tell the police. Now, I'm gonna punch you real good, and you're gonna say you two fought, or I'll ruin you." They looked at eachother again and gulped. Phil brought his fist down again, hard.

\------

"Can you walk, baby?" Phil helped Tommy up, limping him over to the warm bubble bath he had prepared. After the police came and he took a few aspirin, he made his way up to Tommy's room for some father-son bonding time. He really had a lot to make up for. 

"Uh, yeah, sorta." Phil could see the bruises littering his son's throat, thighs, and ass, and he felt ashamed. Not for Tommy, but for himself. He was supposed to be a father, goddamnit! He had let such stupid things get between him and his son.

"Alright, there, Toms," he gently helped his son into the bath, smiling gently when Tommy groaned at the feeling of the warm water soothing his muscles. "Feel alright?"

"Yeah, thanks." Tommy said. He looked up at Phil. "W-what exactly happened to Wilbur and Techno?"

Phil frowned, focusing on wetting a cloth to help his son clean up. He got on his knees and got to work. "You're never gonna see them again, Toms. They're gonna get what's coming to them."

Tommy hummed in agreement. "Who's going to watch me, then?" Phil worked the cloth down Tommy's chest and arms, carefully brushing over bruises and bites. 

"Me, and if I'm not home, yourself. You're old enough for me to trust you, Toms."

Tommy's dulled eyes lit up a bit. "D-does this mean you're going to stop drinking?" 

Phil moved the cloth across Tommy's shoulders. "Yeah, Tommy. For real this time."

\---- Three months later ----

"How was therapy, Tommy?" Phil asked, setting the table for dinner. Tommy had just gotten home from school.

Tommy grabbed an apple. "Pretty good. We worked on self esteem stuff today," he paused for a second, as if contemplating something. "Tubbo joined us."

Phil seemed to stutter for a second, then quickly continue organizing silverware at the table. "That's nice. How is Tubbo? You guys are still together, right?"

"Yeah," Tommy smiled, a small, but real one. "Yeah, we are."


	5. NOT A CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH

WOAH- THIS HAS A LOT OF COMMENTS-

so, like, im gonna do all the requests, but I have over thirty right now- and with finals, school, yadda yadda, itll take awhile to do all of em.

im not gonna close requests, but i am gonna get a lil pickier. if you dont write it in the format given i wont take it. also, i might be a lil slow to update (1 fic every 1-2 days) so pls bear with be babies

sorry!


	6. Wilbur's Table-y Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur has a thing for tables, and lets out his desires on a lovely cedar Ikea table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am i like this

Wilbur walked along the dimly lit pathway of Ikea. The only sound in the dark room was his footsteps as he followed the faintly glowing arrows on the floor. He jangled his keys lightly in his left hand, trying not to get spooked at shadows along the wall.

It was his second month at the job, and by now the owner trusted him enough to close the store. The only people in the building were him and a few scarily realistic stuffed animals in the kids’ section, but he never needed to venture over there long enough to get scared. His main job was checking the big furniture area near the checkout and ensuring nothing was broken or stolen.

Usually on his late shifts, everything was normal. He would follow the winding hallways, checking the red-lit exits and checking the merchandise. Sometimes, he would find a struggling shopper, lost in the maze-like hallways. Hell, sometimes he even got lost himself.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when something banged in the distance, three or four rows down. Wilbur jogged along the concrete aisles, figuring it was a rat or a raccoon. Much to Wilbur and his boss’ contempt, those pesky little rodents often found their way into the building, despite the traps placed at each entrance and cubbyhole. Ikea was just a giant warehouse after all, and the doors were left open a lot to bring in large orders.

After searching near the desks and chairs, Wilbur couldn’t find the source of the noise. He glanced down each hall as he passed them, seeing all types of wooden and fabric furniture. He began to worry; it was unlikely that someone had broken in, but the possibility was there. He didn’t have anything to protect himself other than his keys. He adjusted said keys into a defensive position, just in case.

Wilbur heard another banging noise coming from the next aisle over, with the dining tables. His hand gripped his flashlight, readily flicking it on. He turned the corner warily, and to his surprise, no living thing was there.

Instead of an animal or person, there in the middle of the aisle sat the most beautifully carved ornate table Wilbur had ever seen. The reddish wood, likely cedar, glistened with a high-quality finish. The edges and legs of the table were engraved perfectly, the swirls showing no imperfections. Wilbur felt his pants tightening and his face reddening at the sight.

He walked over to the table, the mysterious banging noise long forgotten. He tossed his keys to the ground, wanting both hands free to run them along the smooth wood of the table. He slid the tip of his pointer finger into a divot of the carved wood, and he swore the table made a noise at the gentle scratch of his nail.

Now undeniably aroused, Wilbur undid the zipper of his company-designated Ikea pants. The navy blue fabric loosened, and the unrestrained bulge in his boxers pushed through. He ignored that, however, electing to go back to appreciating the table. He pressed his palm to the center, testing its strength, before deciding to climb onto it.

Wilbur pushed himself up, the table creaking under his weight. The distended edge of his boxers grazed the corner or the table, eliciting a gasp from his lips. He fell back onto his toes, rubbing against the table again experimentally. A mixture of pain and pleasure shot through him as his dick slammed into the corner. He groaned in surprise.

He stepped out of his pants and boxers quickly, now unbelievably hard and aching. He gave himself a few quick jerks before moving back to the corner of the table. Wilbur lined himself up directly in the corner and pushed his hips forward. More pleasure-pain spiked in the pit of his stomach, and he nearly startled himself with the grunt that was pushed from his throat. He jerked forwards again, chasing the feeling the table gave him.

Eventually realizing that the thin corner of the table wouldn’t finish him, Wilbur let his eyes trail down the neatly carved table legs. The tips were flat, about the diameter of a soda can, cushioned lightly with foam slip pads. His dick dribbled - in anticipation.

He pulled his uncovered cock from the table’s corner, registering the faint pink lines running along the side from the sharp edge of the table. He got impossibly harder.

Wilbur knelt down into the floor, his knees hitting the epoxy floor with a dull thud. He didn’t register the faint throbbing in his knees, the throbbing in his dick being much more prominent. He crawled over to a table leg, gently laying on his side next to it. He lifted the leg, until it was about three inches of the ground, then slipped his dick under it before it hit the floor.

In a flash, the breath was knocked out of him and his face turned unabashedly hotter. The formerly dull throbbing in his dick had risen to a steady thud, in time with his heartbeat. He looked down at the beaded head of it, grimacing slightly at the purpling color of his squished cock and balls. The pain quickly turned to pleasure, though, and with a jerk of his hips Wilbur was able to push the worry to the back of his mind.

Gripping the post in front of him, he thrusted forwards again. The foam slip-pads beneath the table leg chafed against his sensitive cockhead. Quick whimpers and pained gasps dripped from his lips, and his sweaty skin glistened in tandem with the perfect finish on the table’s surface. His eyes rolled back as more pre-cum squirted from his cut-off cock.

Wilbur pushed his warm face into the cool wood of the table, sighing at the temporary relief it brought. He continued his thrusts, turning his nose into the post. Without thinking, he stuck out his tongue and messily licked the table leg, attempting to make out with the inanimate object. It worked, sort of, the curved carvings in the table allowing his pointed tongue to stimulate it. He registered the chemical taste of the finish, pushing away any warning signs at ingesting unknown chemicals. He licked along the peg, the cold wood picking up the residue of his spit.

Wilbur felt himself nearing his finish, ignoring all other thoughts. With a final thrust and a shudder, cum dribbled from his now deep purple cock. Coming down from his high, he quickly noticed the now painfully heavy table crushing his dick. Working quickly, he lifted the table up and tenderly pulled his throbbing dick out from under it. The foam pads had left a circular indent in his poor cock. He felt the blood rushing back into it, and whatever cum was blocked by the table leg dribbled out from it.

Turning his face from the bottom of the table leg into the ground, Wilbur licked up his own salty release from the ground. He swallowed without issue, silently wondering if the cleanup crew had already come or if he needed to clean this up himself.

With his mind hazing, Wilbur set a twenty-minute timer on his phone to let himself come down from the high. He threw his arm over his eyes, huffing to catch his breath. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of the unfinished wood of the underside of the table. He vaguely heard another banging sound from an aisle over, but chalked it up to his imagination. He didn’t even stop to think about why a table was out in the aisle in the first place.

Wilbur drifted off, his cock already re-hardening at the thought of one of those table legs inside of him.


	7. The Breakroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur gets on his knees and gets fucked by a table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord help us all.

Wilbur walked through Ikea’s hallways, this time lit with the bright LED’s that had become a staple of his workplace. People pushed around him, ignoring him in favor of looking at the modern furniture littering the sides of the walkways. Wilbur didn’t mind the hustle and bustle, opting to listen to the music flowing from his earbuds.

Glancing at his watch, Wilbur noticed the time. He had two minutes until his scheduled fifteen-minute break. He silently fist bumped. Finally! He’d been walking around helping Karens for hours on end, and now he could settle down and play some Minecraft for a few minutes.

He walked towards the double doors leading to the break area, already removing his name pin. He hadn’t worked for a few days- the bruising on his cock was so bad he opted to stay home- so he wasn’t sure who’d be in. Luckily, he’s all alone. Just him with shitty breakroom coffee and donuts from that morning.

Wilbur walked around the table in the center of the room to sit down, stopping when he noticed the table. It wasn’t the normal stained plastic table they’d had for months. He’d recognize those perfect carvings anywhere- it was the table from a week ago. It’s the table that crushed his cock and left him with bruises for days.

Wilbur felt himself harden in his pants, not taking his eyes off the perfect table. It was beautiful, just as he remembered it- but why was it here? Feeling the strain on his zipper, he wasn’t sure he cared.

Not bothering to lock the door or cover the windows, Wilbur lowered himself to his knees in front of the table. He gently inspected the leg he had used last time, checking for any blemishes. Luckily, he had left the table untouched. Perfect. He nosed along the table’s perfect finish, admiring it as he had last time. Some things never changed.

He shed his pants and boxers as quickly as he had before, also tossing his shirt into the clothes pile that was growing in the corner. His dick grazed the tile floor as he crawled under the table. He shivered at the ice cold feeling, but the cold did nothing to lower his erection.

Wilbur slid over to the farthest corner of the table, reaching for one of his co-workers’ baby bag and pulling out a small container of baby oil. He was planning on just using spit, but he didn’t want to tear and not be able to come into work. Plus, asshole splinters sounded terrible.

He laid back onto his back, adjusting himself so the cool table leg was nestled in his ass. He was still decently loose from this morning, when he had played with himself to the thought of this very table. The memory made him shiver in anticipation. Now he would get to live those dreams.

He slicked up his fingers with the baby oil, tossing the bottle to the side. He reached down, playing with his hole, before shoving two fingers in with a groan. He pistoned them as hard as he could, ready to get prep over with. He wanted the table inside him.

He added a third finger within a minute, grunting loudly with the stretch. He added a fourth finger, much too soon, and soon the squelching sounds coming from his ass drowned out the pained noises dripping from his lips. He spread the leftover oil on the table leg.

Wilbur lifted the table leg gently, putting the squared tip to his hole. Relaxing, he pushed the first inch or two of it in. The table creaked, and Wilbur swore it was enjoying it, too.

He pushed it in even farther, losing track of how much was in at this point. He knew it all wouldn’t fit, the table was about three feet tall. Even if it would be hot, he’s not going to die from table sex.

The donuts and pot of cheap coffee that had been on the table before he started fell to the ground, dousing Wilbur in the warm liquid. The salty sweat already dripping from his forehead mixed with the coffee on his skin, and it was a pleasant feeling.

He pulled the part of the table leg that was in him back out, letting it pound back into him with a drawn-out moan. The table shuddered above him. Wilbur pulled his knees parallel to his head, bending himself in half. The table, which was suspended in his ass, went impossibly deeper with each wiggle.

Wilbur ground up into the table leg, feeling it brush against every crevice inside him. The sharp corners poked against his walls, and the feeling was heavenly.

He reached behind him to grab the nearest table leg, pulling his head up to it and sticking it in his mouth. He gnawed on the table leg gently, as he fucked himself hack onto the table leg. The drool from his mouth joined the coffee, sweat, and pre-cum mixture on the floor, adding to the wet mess.

Wilbur knew he was close, chasing his release by speeding up his ministrations. He bit down on the table leg hard as he felt cum spray across his chest, some of it reaching the top of the bottom part of the table.

He lay there for a few minutes, gathering his bearings. Wilbur looked at the mess he made, tiredly moving to his hands and knees to gather the floor mixture and lap it up with his tongue. He made his way along the puddle, wincing at the taste of cheap coffee and salty sweat. Eventually, the floor was basically clean, and he was able to put his clothes back on, albeit haphazardly.

Wilbur glanced at the clock on the wall- his break ended in two minutes. He was lucky that he had finished up quickly. Had he taken any longer to clean up or finish, someone might’ve walked in to change shifts.

Wilbur walked out of the breakroom in a post-orgasm haze, straightening his uniform. He didn’t notice the table behind him glistening, changing.


	8. Quackity Has a Bad Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Quackster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God is dead and we have killed him.
> 
> Excuse the errors.

Quackity sat in his office in Manburg, wincing as he plucked stray feathers from his wings. His shirt was pooled around his feet on the floor, and his small elbow-length wings spread around him. He stretched them farther, as far as they could go, picking out a spare yellow feather and smoothing the shiny ones down.

A small pile of feathers lay on his desk. He hadn't been able to preen his wings in awhile because of Schlatt's constant watchful eye, but now he could. Schlatt was out buying whiskey or doing whatever that drunkard did in his spare time, and Quackity had a good hour or two to himself. He could do whatever he wanted.

Quackity heard footsteps coming down the hall to his room. Who the hell could that be? Certainly not Schlatt, he was gone. Could it be Tubbo? No, Tubbo was too meek to possibly come and see Quackity, Schlatt's right-hand man. Quackity quickly pulled his wings around him as he heard the doorknob to his room jiggle.

"Schlatt? You in there?" That sounded like Technoblade. 'Oh fuck, oh fuck,' Quackity thought. Techno wouldn't hesitate to kill Quackity if he saw the duck hybrid as a threat. Quackity glanced around his room quickly, trying to find a place to hide. He spotted the couch in the corner and zoomed over as quietly as possible. He crawled under just as he heard Techno speak up again.

"It doesn't sound like he's in there."

Quackity heard another voice scoff. "Yeah, I doubt he'd just casually open up the door and say hi to us, dumbass." Was that Dream?

Techno wiggled the knob again and huffed in annoyance. "The damn door's locked."

Quackity heard Dream's footsteps moving around. "Okay, and? Just break down the door. Here, let me do it." Something blunt tore through Quackity's door, splintering the wood. Quackity saw chunks of oak littering the floor from his hiding place.

"Huh. I guess he really wasn't here," Technoblade grunted. Quackity picked out Techno's heeled leather boots from Dream's scrappy tennis shoes. Technoblade started walking around the perimeter of the room, stopping at bookshelves and drawers. "I never knew Schlatt would be one for music." Quackity assumed Techno had found his prized composition books.

"Lemme see," Dream's stiff shoes walked over to Techno's. "Huh, this seems well done. Do you really think he did it?"

Techno hummed. "Not sure. Whatever, it doesn't matter. That's not what we're here for."

"Yeah, yeah." Quackity almost cried out as he heard the telltale rip of his books. He felt his eyes glistening with fresh tears.

Technoblade must've made a motion at Dream, because both men were walking towards the desk. "Hey, don't these feathers look familiar?" Techno asked.

Dream snorted. "Yeah, those are Quackity's. Maybe they're fucking or something. I'd tap that bird-ass too."

"No need to be so crude."

"Hey, you'd do it if you had the chance," Dream's steps got farther away. Quackity heard his chair being rolled away. "Lookie here, I was right! He's fucking the little slut!" Quackity heard rustling and assumed Dream had found his shirt.

Techno took the shirt from Dream. "Hey, it's warm. He's been here recently. I'd say no more than two minutes ago."

Dream's dirty sneakers made their way to the door. "Recently, huh?" Quackity gulped as Dream quietly pushed a dresser in front of the door, which now had a gaping hole in the middle. "D'you think... he's still here?" Dream shoved Quackity's desk chair back. Quackity assumed he was looking under the table.

Techno made a noise of confirmation. "Yeah, he's in this room. I'm feelin' the couch." Quackity bit his lip in nervous anticipation. Was he about to lose a canon life? Seriously? In his own office?

Dream practically danced over, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a plaything for awhile. "C'mon, little birdie! We won't hurt you! ...Much."

Quackity felt the cold air of his office hit his back as the couch was pushed back. He hesitantly looked up and met Dream's sickening gaze. "Uh... hi?"

"Ooh, and he's shirtless! Tell me, were you fucking Schlatt or something?"

Quackity grimaced at the thought of sex with that drunk asshole. "No, gross."

Technoblade seemed to resume his search for whatever he was looking for. "Dream, we don't have time for this."

Dream grabbed Quackity's arm with a vice grip. "C'mon, you heard the man. We can have fun after Dreamie and Technoblade are done."

"Wh-What are you-?" Dream stuffed Quackity's own balled-up shirt into his mouth.

"Shush, birdie. Gotta stay quiet or it won't be pleasant for you."

So Quackity listened. He sat, still and drooling through the t-shirt in his mouth, for an hour. He could see Techno and Dream's patience wearing thin as they pulled out shelf drawers and rifled through the pages of books. "Where the fuck could it be?" Dream muttered to himself. Quackity squirmed, feeling stiff, and Dream's gaze snapped to him. "Hey, maybe the birdie can help!"

Quackity's dry mouth snapped shut as soon as the t-shirt was pulled from his lips. He spat out the taste of cotton. "Really, man?"

Techno put down the book he was looking through. "Huh, why didn't I think of that?" he casually pulled out his netherite sword. Quackity could practically hear the hum of the fire enchantments. Those would hurt like a bitch. The nearly scalding blade was held inches from his throat. "Tell me, where could one find the revival books?"

Quackity made a face. "The what-whats?"

"The revival books!" Dream huffed. "Seriously, aren't you like, his partner? Doesn't he tell you anything?"

"Not really..." Quackity grumbled.

Dream ran his hands along Quackity's lightly tanned stomach. "Aw, poor baby. He just wants some attention!"

Quackity held his hands crossed firmly in front of his chest. He felt so exposed like this, with his wings out. Usually he hid them under a coat or overshirt. "Whatever. Just take what you want and leave."

Dream grabbed Quackity's wrist, almost hard enough to break. "Now, birdie, be nice or I'll have to hurt you." Dream grabbed Quackity's soggy discarded t-shirt and haphazardly knotted his hands to the chair behind him. "There. Y'know, I'm feeling a little bored, and I'd say we have some time," he held his hand out to Technoblade. "Lemme see your sword."

Techno handed it over without any complaints. Quackity moved as far back into his chair as he could as Dream gently scraped the blade along his pectorals and stomach. "Awe, are you worried I'm gonna hurt you?" He moved the blade in one quick motion, slicing Quackity's pants and boxers right down the middle. Quackity felt the familiar sting of a fire aspect enchantment, this time coming from a paper-like cut on his dick. He hissed in pain, and Technoblade gave an approving grunt as Quackity's cock was exposed and blood beaded at the cut.

"Oops!" Dream giggled. Quackity resisted the urge to roll his eyes. A trickle of sweat rolled from his brow as Dream pulled off the torn remains of his pants, leaving him naked. The blade continues running up and down his sides, teasing him in a sickening way.

Technoblade walked over from where he leaned against a bookshelf. "Oh, hand it over, Dream." Dream obliged, and Technoblade swiped the sword in front of Quackity's torso. At first, Quackity thought nothing had happened. But the second he shifted in his seat, searing pain ripped through his body, from below his pec to his bellybutton. The tears finally fell as Quackity yelled out in pain, writing in his chair. He closed his lips in a quick hiss, not wanting to give them satisfaction.

Technoblade palmed his own cock through his pants. "Fuck, it's been awhile." He ran his fingers through the blood pooling around Quackity's limp cock and stomach.

Dream just smirked from his standing point behind Techno. "Whatever, now that we have some lube, the party can really start!" Quackity stopped still at those words. Lube? Were they going to do what he thought they were going to do?

Dream hoisted up Quackity's legs at the knees, securing them tightly behind his head. Quackity grimaced at the tight pull of his leg muscles and the sting of the cut on his chest. He was flexible, yeah, but not that much. His bare hole was exposed to the cold of his office.

Dream grabbed Quackity's thighs and ass in one big hand. "Fuck, is this what you've been hiding under those sweatpants of yours?" Dream squeezed and kneaded the fat there, and Quackity tried not to squirm. Even the smallest movements hurt like shit.

"Hurry up, Dream," Techno said from his perch behind them. "I want a turn." Quackity made the mistake of making eye contact with Technoblade. The piglin's pupils were dialated to dots. His nostrils flared like an angry boars'. Quackity nearly whimpered at the sight.

Dream huffed in annoyance, scooping up some of the blood pooling under Quackity's cock and slathering it into his hole. "Alright, be happy with the prep you're about to get, 'cuz it's all I have the patience for." He abruptly shoved two fingers in Quackity's ass, and Quackity let out a guttural scream.

Dream thrust the fingers inside quicker. Quackity swore he could feel himself tearing, and the amount of blood on Dream's fingers was steadily growing. The pain from the cut on his chest was nowhere near as bad as the excruciating pain he felt. 

"Fuck, that's hot." Dream said dumbly. Techno seemed to think the same thing with the way he was jerking his cock with Quackity's blood.

Dream pulled his fingers out, wiping them on Quackity's thigh. The cool air hit Quackity's throbbing hole and he nearly sobbed harder at the slight relief. 

"Aw, don't get too excited yet. We haven't even gotten to the good part!" Quackity didn't get a second's rest as Dream shoved his cock inside the bloodied hole. Quackity couldn't form sounds as the white-hot pain overtook him. He vaguely heart Techno's wet grunts and Dream's crazed moans. The salty precum from Dream's cock seared his insides, and it fucking burned.

"Fuck, I might not last long," Dream moaned. "This bitch's boypussy is fucking tight." Techno didn't respond. Or did he? Quackity's head was floaty and he could barely understand what was going on. Maybe it was the blood loss.

Dream's thrusts turned sloppy and he quickened his pace. The chair thudded against the wall behind the desk. "Fuck, gonna-" The warm cum- probably pretty salty, Quackity reckoned- flooded the man's torn ass. He clenched his teeth and screamed as Dream rode out his orgasm, pushing the cum into every cut and bruise inside him.

Dream pulled out, the now pink-ish cum leaking from Quackity and dribbling onto the floor. "Alright Techno, your turn." Techno hummed in affirmation and pulled his netherite sword back from it's sheath, and Quackity could feel the cut on his stomach stinging with phantom pains.

Technoblade ran the sword's edge along Quackity's arms, slashing off the bindings in one quick motion. Quackity quickly pulled his arms to his chest, leaning forward and stretching his wings. His wounds protested at the movement.

"I didn't untie ya so you could escape, Quacks," Technoblade said, re-sheathing his sword. Quackity held back his sighs of relief. "I just wanted to fuck ya on your front." That sounded painful.

Quackity didn't bother to protest, turning around and planting his torso onto the wooden desk in front of him. The bloody hole in his chest squelched disgustingly when he placed it gently on the hard wood. "There, not so hard, huh?" Quackity didn't like this, not one bit. He couldn't see what the murderous piglin was doing behind him. He felt something prod painfully against his hole, and if he had any tears left he would've cried again in painful anticipation.

Techno jerked back and forth, much quicker than Dream had. The almost dry friction from the texture of the blood made it even worse. He felt himself getting dizzy, and spots danced at the corners of his vision. He shut his eyes tight, begging for sleep or death or some sort of relief. 

Instead, he felt a painful pressure on his wings as Techno grabbed them and pulled hard, forcing him to arch his back. The clotting wound at his front split and more blood spilled onto the table, joining the copious amounts on the desk and floor. 

Techno's sweaty hands gripped the poor duck's wings, pulling out feathers that were not meant to be gone. They littered the floor beside the feathers that Quackity himself had removed. Quackity was sure that the pinprick pains along his back were bleeding, too.

Quackity gasped, finding whatever words he could. "I- blood- might die-" Dream sidled up beside him, grabbing Quackity's chin and grinning.

"You have to canon lives left, birdie. You'll be fine dying one more time." Did this really mean he was going to die? Was this how he died, being fucked by two of his enemies in his own Vice-Presidential office?

He shut his eyes tight as Techno also came, adding to the throbbing and stinging that Dream's cum had left. Techno tucked himself back into his pants almost casually, as if he hadn't just literally fucked a man within an inch of his life. Quackity slumped to the floor, crumpling. He was just able to make out Dream's giddy "Found it!" before red filled his vision and he went up in a puff of smoke.


End file.
